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Updated: June 10, 2025
Ralston got up and went away, and after an interval Monck came silently forward and took the vacant seat. Tommy was among the players. His play was always either surprisingly brilliant or amazingly bad, and on this particular evening he was winning all the honours. Stella was joining in the general applause after a particularly fine stroke when suddenly Monck's voice spoke at her side.
The air blew in cool and pure with a soft whispering of spring and the brief splendour of the rose-time. The howl of a prowling jackal came now and then to her ears, making her shiver with the memory of Monck's words. Away in the jungle the owls were calling upon notes that sounded like weird cries for help.
They walked to the mess-house together a little later through the airless dark, and there was nothing in Monck's manner either then or during the evening to confirm the doubt in Tommy's mind. Spirits were not very high at the mess just then. Nearly all the women had left for the Hills, and the increasing heat was beginning to make life a burden.
"If this thing is to be kept from her as it must be as it shall be you must drop out vanish. So far as she is concerned you must die to-night." "I?" Dacre stared at him in startled incredulity. "Man, are you mad?" "I am not." Keen as bared steel came the answer. Monck's impassivity was gone.
But if you've any decent excuse let's hear it!" He had never adopted that tone to Monck before, but he had been rudely jolted out of his usually complacent attitude, and he resented Monck's presence. Moreover, an unpleasant sense of inferiority had begun to make itself felt.
You ought to clear out, all of you; but a journey would probably be fatal to Mrs. Monck's infant just now. I can't advise it." "Wherever Stella goes, I go," said Bernard firmly. "Yes, that's understood." Ralston gave him a keen look. "You're in charge, aren't you? But those who can go, must go, that's certain. That scoundrel will be convicted in a day or two. And then look out for squalls!"
"I believe you have heard me speak of my brother Bernard," he said, "chaplain of Charthurst Prison." Dacre nodded. "The fellow who writes to you every month. Well? What of him?" Monck's steady fingers detached and unfolded a letter. "You had better read for yourself," he said, and held it out. But curiously Dacre hung back as if unwilling to touch it.
I believe the old brute turned up again before Monck's return, but he wasn't visible till afterwards. He and Monck have always been thick as thieves thick as thieves." He paused, looking at Sir Reginald. "A very fishy transaction, sir," he observed. Sir Reginald's eyes met his.
The vague sunlight still smote across the dripping compound; the whole plain was smoking like a mighty cauldron. Stella finished her task and stood still. Across the silence came Monck's voice. "Aren't you going to give me my medicine?" She turned slowly round. "I think you are nearly equal to doctoring yourself now," she said.
But Sir Reginald Bassett you know old Sir Reggie? came and inspected us the other day, and we had a talk. He is one of the keenest empire-builders that I ever met." An odd thrill sounded in Monck's voice. "He asked me if presently when the vacancy occurred I would be his secretary, his political adviser, as he put it. Stella, it would be a mighty big step up.
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